


Attempted Deception and Circumstantial Agitation

by onemechanicalalligator



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Fainting, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26989795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemechanicalalligator/pseuds/onemechanicalalligator
Summary: Abed is sick and Troy panics. Some stuff happens in between those two events, too.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Comments: 14
Kudos: 170





	Attempted Deception and Circumstantial Agitation

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in response to an anonymous Tumblr prompt!

Abed isn’t sick.

He has a headache, an _everything-_ ache, and a runny nose. His throat is scratchy. But he’s not sick.

He’s a little shaky, and one minute he’s so hot he takes his hoodie off, and the next he’s so cold he wishes he had five more hoodies. But he’s definitely not sick. 

Sick means thermometers and medicine and _doctors._ And those are unacceptable. So Abed reminds himself over and over and over again that _he is not sick._

He’s the first one to study group, and he lays his head down on the table until the rest of his friends start arriving. He sits up when Britta walks in, and she has her headphones in, so she doesn’t say anything, just waves at him and smiles. He waves back. 

“Are you okay?” Annie asks him as soon as she walks in, narrowing her eyes when Abed nods. 

“I’m fine,” he says, trying to make his voice sound normal, even though it’s incredibly painful.

“Okay…” Annie says, but she doesn’t look convinced.

When Troy comes in he reaches out to do their special handshake, and afterwards he pulls his hand away quickly.

“Dude, you’re burning up,” he says, his eyes wide. “Are you sick?”

“No,” Abed says. “I’m fine. It’s probably because I have this sweatshirt on.” He takes it off and drapes it over the back of his chair. 

“Are you sure?” Troy presses. “Your eyes look kinda glassy. And you look tired.”

“I’m fine, I promise,” Abed insists. 

Jeff walks in next, and he nods to Troy and Abed and takes his seat. He pulls out his phone without so much as a word to anyone and starts typing.

“You look like shit, Abed,” Pierce remarks when he gets to the study room.

“Thanks,” Abed says. Pierce shrugs and sits down and promptly falls asleep.

Shirley is the last one to arrive.

“Abed, what on earth are you doing here?” she asks, her words sharp and her tone gentle. “You look about ready to fall over.”

“I’m fine, really,” Abed says, and he thinks he should just make a sign to hold up, one that says _I’m fine,_ because it’s killing his throat to keep repeating himself. 

“No, you’re not, pumpkin,” Shirley says. “I know what a sick boy looks like, and it’s you.”

Abed shakes his head so hard it sends a bolt of pain through his skull, and he gasps. He quickly composes himself.

“Shirley, I’m not sick,” Abed says. “I got too hot, that’s all.”

“Baby, your voice sounds like Batman,” Shirley says, raising one eyebrow.

“No, it doesn’t. _This is what Batman sounds like,”_ Abed says in his Batman voice, wincing at how much it hurts, and then disguising it as a scowl.

“Okay, sugar. Whatever you say,” Shirley says, rolling her eyes. “I’ll be here when you decide to admit you’re sick.”

Abed doesn’t respond, and they start to go over their notes. He has no idea what they are studying; he can’t focus on anything but the pounding in his head. When that finally starts to calm down, he realizes he’s chilly. _Freezing,_ even. He starts to shake violently and he quickly puts his hoodie on, as quietly as possible. Everyone is focused on their textbooks, and no one seems to notice.

Abed tries to ignore how much his body hurts while he waits for study group to end. He thinks he might skip his next class and just go home -- not because he’s sick, he’s just extra tired. He didn’t sleep well last night. He couldn’t get comfortable.

When they finally finish, everyone chats for a little while, the way they always do, and Abed sticks around so no one gets suspicious. When everyone stands up to leave, he does the same.

_“Abed? Abed!”_

The next thing he knows, he’s flat on is back and his eyes are closed. He can hear Annie calling his name, and lots of murmuring, and Jeff muttering for everyone to _quit crowding him, give him some space._ Abed wants to open his eyes, but they feel so heavy, and he’s so tired.

_“C’mon, buddy, please wake up.”_

It’s Troy, and that convinces Abed to open his eyes. He’s never heard Troy sound so frightened, so desperate and so small at the same time.

“There he is,” Jeff says, as Abed looks up to see everyone hovering over him.

“What…?” he tries to ask, but his throat is so scratchy he can barely talk.

“You passed out, Abed,” says Britta. She sounds concerned. “You stood up and then you just fell right down.”

Abed keeps looking around, at the ceiling, the walls. It’s quickly becoming clear that he’s not in the study room anymore. He moves, and there’s a crinkling sound underneath him. He’s laying on a bed covered in a paper sheet. 

“Where…?” He tries again.

“You’re in Nurse Jackie’s office,” says Pierce. “He’s a man, by the way. Contrary to what one might think, with a name like _Nurse Jackie…”_

“We _get it,”_ groans Annie. “You know, you don’t have to stick around, Pierce. You can go home whenever you want.

“Oh,” Pierce says, and leaves.

Abed, meanwhile, is trying not to freak out. He hates doctors and nurses and their offices and everything they do. He doesn’t trust them. Doesn’t feel safe.

“Troy--” Abed says, flailing wildly.

“Right here, buddy,” Troy says, taking his hand. “We’ve been here the entire time. No one left you alone with the nurse. And no one did anything to you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Abed breathes. He trusts Troy.

Nurse Jackie enters and brushes all of Abed’s friends out of the way.

“You gave everyone quite a scare, Abed,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

Abed gets ready to say, _I’m not sick._ But he thinks at this point, his argument _might_ fall flat.

“Not great,” he finally admits. He goes through all of his symptoms with the nurse, his head and body aches, the sore throat, fever and chills. The nurse tells him he has the flu and he passed out from being dehydrated.

“I can hook you up to an IV,” he says, “or you can promise to drink a lot of water.”

“I’ll drink the water,” Abed promises, and Nurse Jackie is satisfied. He brings Abed a jug holding 32 ounces and tells Abed he can go home once he finishes it.

It takes a little while, because Abed’s throat is killing him, but he finally gets all the water down, and Troy and Annie help him to the car and drive him home. Once they get there, they tuck Abed in on the couch with his favorite blankets and TV shows and a few more big bottles of water. Annie brings him some ibuprofen, which he reluctantly takes.

Troy stays with him, sitting on the floor with his back against the couch. They watch TV while Abed drifts in and out of sleep. Annie checks on him every so often, bringing him whatever he needs, and Troy turns around and smiles at him, pats him on the hand, and Abed thinks, _this part of being sick maybe isn’t so bad._

Eventually, it turns into evening, and Abed wakes up from another nap to find the sun going down. 

* * *

Troy isn’t sure why, but something about it getting dark outside makes everything seem bigger and scarier. He’s been doing fine all afternoon, helping to take care of Abed and making sure he’s comfortable and safe. But as the sun sets, as the living room gets dark, he starts to fixate on the moment when Abed passed out. One of the _scariest moments of Troy’s life._

He can’t stop thinking about the way Abed was fine and alert one minute -- okay, not _fine,_ but _alert_ \-- and then the next he was unconscious on the floor, so pale he looked dead. Troy had never considered the possibility of Abed dying before. Death isn’t something he thinks about very often, if he can help it. But seeing Abed on the floor, thinking he was dead -- it’s like he watched their whole relationship flash in front of his eyes, and all he could think was, _it’s not enough._

Troy sits facing the TV, not knowing if Abed is even awake or not. He can’t pull his mind away from these notions, can’t redirect his thought patterns, can’t do anything but sit here and visualize losing Abed. His breath starts to speed up, and he feels like he’s not getting enough air. He feels like _he’s_ the one who’s dying now. He feels --

“Troy?” Abed’s voice is weak and concerned, and Troy throws a new layer -- _guilt_ \-- into his whirlwind of panic. 

“Yeah,” he gasps. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

He hears rustling behind him, and turns to find Abed sitting up on the couch, wrapping the blankets tighter around himself. He pulls one arm free and motions for Troy to sit next to him.

Troy does, pulling his feet up on the couch and curling up as tightly as he can. He’s still not breathing normally, or thinking normally, or doing _anything_ normally. He can’t stop freaking out. He’s rocking back and forth and practically vibrating.

“Troy,” Abed says again. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I know,” Troy says automatically.

“No… Here, take my hand. I’m sorry if it’s hot. Or cold.” He reaches out and takes Troy’s hand in his own. “What’s wrong? What’s scaring you?”

“I just,” Troy says, gasping, trying to find the words, but his brain is rushing a million miles a minute and his heart is beating so loudly he can’t hear himself think. “I can’t…”

“Breathe with me,” Abed says. “Deep breaths, in and out. Can you do that?” He takes a few exaggerated breaths and watches Troy to see if he’ll follow.

Troy does, matching the way Abed breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth. He’s doing it for Abed, not for himself, and he’s surprised when after a while it actually works, when he starts to feel like he can breathe normally again. When he stops feeling like he’s going to die.

“Better?” asks Abed.

“Yeah,” Troy says. “Thank you.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Abed asks.

“I’m sorry, I just… I got scared,” Troy says. “When you passed out, and I thought maybe you died, and I couldn’t stand the thought of you not being there, and I especially couldn’t stand the thought of you dying without me ever telling you--”

“Telling me what?” Abed asks softly.

“How I feel,” Troy squeaks. His mind is racing again, but this is a different kind of panic. He’s not in danger. He’s just nervous.

“And how’s that?” Abed says.

“I’m, uh. In love with you?” Troy whispers, because he can’t _not_ do this now _._ He _has_ to tell Abed. “Please don’t be mad. Please don’t stop being my friend.” He stops and takes a breath, suddenly regretting everything. “Look, I know I said I couldn’t stand the thought of me not telling you, but now I’m thinking that I was very, very wrong--”

“Troy. Troy,” Abed interrupts. “Slow down. I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” Troy asks, taking a deep breath.

“No,” Abed says. He gives Troy a small, tired smile. “I share those feelings. For you.” He pauses. “I was planning to tell you, actually. After I admitted I was sick. So that if you didn’t love me back, I could claim that I was delirious and didn’t mean anything I said.” He laughs a little, and then the laugh turns to a cough, and Troy pats him on the back and hands him a bottle of water.

“But...you _do_ mean it?” he asks, hopeful and giddy and overwhelmed.

“I do,” Abed says, sipping the water. He clears his throat. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Troy whispers. “I think I already said that.”

Abed reaches for his hand and takes it, lacing their fingers together.

“Now, are you okay, though?” he asks. “For real?”

“I think so,” Troy says. “Better now, for sure. I just...panicked, I guess.”  
  
“I’m sorry for scaring you this afternoon,” Abed says. “I didn’t want to believe I was sick. I hate doctors. I thought if I ignored it, it would just go away.”

“Next time, will you let me take care of you?” Troy asks. “I promise not to make you go to a doctor unless it’s absolutely necessary.” He squeezes Abed’s hand, hoping he understands it as a sign of sincerity.

“Okay,” says Abed. “It’s a deal.” He stares at Troy for a moment, at his face. At his mouth. Troy licks his lips. “Just so you know,” Abed adds, “I really want to kiss you right now. But I don’t want to get you sick. So, can I have a raincheck?”

“You can have a million rainchecks,” Troy promises. “A billion, even. As soon as you’re better, I’ll be here.”

“Cool,” says Abed. “Cool, cool, cool.”


End file.
